Peter Bottomley: It is a pleasure to follow the first three speeches—yours, Mr Speaker, and those of the Leader of the House and the shadow Leader of the House.
One distinguished Under Clerk of the Parliaments—otherwise known as the Clerk of the Commons—was John Hatsell. In Orlo Williams’s great book, “The Clerical Organisation of the House of Commons 1661-1850”, Hatsell is described as attracting the confidence of leading politicians
“by his sympathetic understanding, though he was no sycophant of those in power.”
I think that is the right role for the Clerk and for those they lead in the Clerks department.
Sir John drew the attention of a commentator in the Press Gallery three years ago. A Member of a particular party complained that, if everyone had to stay six feet —or two metres—apart, there would not possibly be room for all SNP Members to perch in their usual seats. The commentator wrote:
“The clerk, with the smallest flash of weariness, said most problems could be resolved by ‘common sense and everyone behaving in a grown-up way’. Common sense and grown-up behaviour? We may need to keep an eye on Clerk Benger.”
They added that Sir John was
“a model clerk: circumspect, bookish, fair…in the best sense, a modest public servant.”
I think that that is the kind of reputation that each person joining the Clerks department would wish to have, whether or not they achieve the highest office.
Sir John was, in his academic life, an expert on Martin Marprelate’s tracts, which basically mocked the Church of England. The style is described as
“a heady mixture of nonsense, satire, protest, irony and gossip, combined with pungent wit, full of the language of the street”—
or unparliamentary language. Were Sir John’s predecessor, Sir David Natzler, here, he would say that the tracts were good preparation for the intrigue, deception and vituperation a member of the House of Commons Commission had to get used to in the old days.
Mr Speaker, let me use the words of your predecessor, John Bercow, who said that the Clerk’s department was
“unstinting, selfless, formidable and…quite exceptional.”
He went on to say that a good Clerk is
“Blessed with a brilliant brain, an understated manner, unfailing courtesy, and an absolute and undiluted passion for Parliament”.—[Official Report, 13 February 2019; Vol. 654, c. 921.]
Following his retirement as Clerk, Sir Thomas Erskine May—who, like Sir John, spent time in the Library as well as in the Clerks’ department—went on to become Baron Farnborough of Hampshire, and he held that role for six days before he died, making it the second shortest peerage. I hope that Sir John’s time at St Catharine’s is longer and that, when he gets to Cambridge, he will understand what it is like to be a member of the Denis Thatcher society, married to a person more important than you are. His wife, Professor Susan, is an expert Anglo-Saxonist. I refer those who are interested to her Chadwick memorial lecture in 2017 on uncertain beginnings. I think the Clerk arriving in Cambridge will not be uncertain. As the 40th master of St Catharine’s, I hope he has as good a time as we hope he has had with us, and we thank him for his service.